The present is woven with multiple pasts by Ingvild Melby
As a child I lived abroad, however we would spend our summers at home in Norway. Our cabin lay nestled between the black water of the Nordic ocean and the forest, far removed from the big city I was used to. Coming home was a strange experience. The place I knew so well felt both frightening, enticing, familiar, yet strange. The feeling that something lurked behind the trees or under the surface of the ocean made me uneasy. I would lie awake listening to the quiet and startle with every unexpected sound. Drifting in and out of sleep, hypnagogic images would play tricks on my mind.
I’m a mother now and my kids play in the same forest I used to. We haven’t had any snow this winter. Yesterday my daughter picked a flower where there shouldn’t be any before May. I worry. The forest yet again seems strange and unfamiliar, but not for the same reasons. Something new and foreign has crept into our forest and disturbed its balance. At night my maternal fears play out as in a dystopian fairy tale; a strange and confusing tale, in a world that no longer feels safe.
This project is inspired by the stories I was told as a child and reflects the fears I have for the future of our next generation and the planet we are leaving them. Folktales and myths emerge in time of upheaval and from histories grimmest moments. They help us deal with our fears and make sense of the world. They also often function as cautionary stories, moral guides and tales of warning. Now, more than ever, it seems we need new tales to lead us through our troubling times.
Ingvild Melby lives and works in Eiksmarka, Norway.
To view more of Ingvild'’s work, please visit her website.
